Angel Wings
by WindyCanyon
Summary: Angel AU. Alfred is the second son of a very wealthy family and has been the trouble child since his mother's death. When his latest antics get him sent to his Uncle David's home in England, he is left with nothing to do but explore the forest around his Uncle's home.
1. Chapter 1

It was raining when Alfred first arrived on the deary streets of London, the gray skies reflected his mood perfectly. _This is stupid! Why did I have to get shipped off to this gloomy dump while my brother is probably living large in Paris?_ There really no point to torture himself by asking that question, he already knew the answer. Alfred's parents had sent him to live with his Uncle David in his 'beautiful' cottage in some English forest. They told him that he wasn't being punished, but he knew he had run out of second chances and was sent here so he would stop being a stain on his family's 'good' name for a little while.

His brother, Mathew, was the good child. Alfred was the one that _always_ caused trouble, or the one that was caught. Matthew was so quiet and sweet that no one ever suspected that he was the one that use to put the snake in the babysitter's pocket. Where as, Alfred was so obnoxious that it couldn't be anyone else, but him. His papa loved Alfred very much and had often overlooked everything he did wrong as just him having fun, but his latest stunt was the last straw. His step-mother had made sure he would be sent to the absolute worse place ever.

"Bitch..." Alfred grumbled under his breath.

"You shouldn't use such foul language," his tutor said, not bothering to look up from his book. His glasses sat low on his nose and the dull light reflected off his pale skin, making him look even paler.

Alfred pouted. "Oh shut it, Roderich." His eyes glared at the colorless scenery around him. "How long until we get there?"

"Patience, Alfred. Our estimated time of arrive is forty-five more minutes." He raised his eyes to catch Alfred's. "Please show some manners to your uncle. It's not his fault your being punished for your mistakes."

Alfred growled, "I didn't do anything wrong!" He gave him a fiery glare.

His violet eyes stared coolly into his. "I suppose throwing a party and destroying the house before a very important dinner was nothing then. Or as you put it," he imitated Alfred's slurred voice at the time of the incident, "'Just a little duck tape and a good cleanin' would have everything spic and span in no time.'"

Alfred made a noise of frustration and looked away, his pride stinging from his tutor's sharp words.

Roderich sighed softly, "You brought this upon yourself."

"I know... I didn't mean to take it this far..." He trailed off.

His voice grew soft. "I'm sure you didn't _mean_ to, but the fact of the matter is, you did."

Alfred glanced at his old friend, but he had returned to his book. He sighed and returned to staring out the window. It amazed him that even though Roderich was only year older than him, yet, he already seemed to know more than him. Then again, it seemed everyone knew more than him lately. Alfred sighed and shifted in his seat.

"If you keep moving, I will be forced to stop the car, tie you up and throw you in the trunk." A small, playful smile worked its way across his face and his eyes sparkled with amusement.

Alfred grinned, happy to hear his friend's old humor. "I'd like to see you try, dude."

"I didn't have a problem doing it when we were younger." His smile widened.

"Yeah, but that was before you got all boring and smart. You should have stayed fun."

The amusement fade quickly and his smile was replaced with his usual cold mask. "Well I apologize for my father's sudden bankruptcy that forced me to grow up and support my family by becoming your tutor."

Alfred bit his lip, realizing his mistake. "I'm sorry Roderich... You know I didn't mean it like that..."

"I know exactly what you meant and it's that childish reasoning that got you here in the first place." His face seemed to age before his eyes. "If you're not careful, you'll end up like my father. So I highly suggest you grow up."

Alfred opened his mouth to reply, but nothing came out. By the time he found something to say, Roderich was back to his book, ending the conversation. Guilt clawed at him for being such a dense idiot. He hadn't meant to trigger such a painful subject for him. It had been many years since Roderich's father gamble and drank away his family's fortune, but his son had used his connections to get a job as Alfred's tutor, a job he consider lowly and below him. But it was all he could do to keep his family afloat and out of poverty.

"We're here." Roderich's cold voice retched him from his thoughts.

"Huh?" Alfred looked up and observed they surrounded by trees. He checked his phone for signal and gave an internal groan when he saw that he had none. "Have no bars! How do they expect me to talk to my friends?!"

"Do believe that's the point." He gave him apathetic look. "You friends are atrocious anyway."

Alfred glared at him. "They are not! They're really nice guys to hang with!"

"Oh, yes, letting that idiot vomit on your stepmother's Persian carpet makes them perfectly respectable men." Roderich's mouth twisted into a rueful smile. "That poor carpet will never be the same."

"You weren't even there! How could you possibly know that Matthias hurled on the carpet?" Alfred exclaimed.

Roderich laughed softly, but it was a joyless laugh. "I didn't, but that's nice to know." Not waiting for him to answer, he got out of the car.

Grumbling, Alfred trailed after him. The driver grabbed his bag from the trunk and quickly followed. The path was long and it led to a small cottage that was nestled cozily between a stream and a large boulder. Trees were full of leaves and were so packed together the sunlight barely had room to filter through the thick foliage.

Roderich knocked politely on the door.

"One moment." A cheerful voice called from the other side. The sound of footsteps and the crash of things being knocked over could be heard through the door.

Alfred held back a laugh, but received an especially painful elbow to the ribs from Roderich.

The door burst open, ripping it off its hinges, to show a tall man. "Damnit, I'll need to fix that," he grumbled before addressing his visitors. "Hello!"

"Uh... Hey," Alfred greeted him.

"Well if it isn't my favorite nephew! I haven't seen you since you were this big," he said motioning to knee height before pulling him into a tight hug. "What can I do for you?"

Roderich coughed. "Alfred is here to stay-"

The man cut him off by knocking the air out of him with a hug. "Roddy! It's nice to see you, boy."

He gasped for air. "Yes... It's nice to see you too, sir."

"Not so formal, I don't bite."

Roderich just nodded. "As I was saying, Alfred is here to stay with you, Mr. Jones."

He looked at him blankly. "He is?"

"Yes, you and your brother talked about this."

"Oh..." He blinked, the confusion on his face slowly disappear as he remembered. "Oh! It's coming back to me."

Alfred laughed. "Nice job, Uncle."

"Call me David." He smiled. "I'm glad your father finally let you visit."

"Yeah, so am I," Alfred lied smoothly.

Roderich gave him an approving glance before looking back to David. "I am sorry to leave so soon, but I really must go."

"What?" Alfred exclaimed. "I thought you were going to stay with me!"

"Did I ever say I was?"

"Well, no...but-"

Roderich cut him off. "I have important business else where and I can not sit here and babysit you."

Alfred pouted. "I don't need a babysitter."

"Good, then I can leave without regret. Farewell Mr. Jones." And with that, he turned away smartly and walked away quickly.

"Goodbye! Come back sometime." David waved, then turned back to Alfred. "Come on in, I'll show you the place," he said as he walked back inside.

Alfred sighed, but followed closely, barely sparing a glance to the detached door. The inside of the cottage was small and old leather books seemed to take up most of the small space. Cobwebs hung from the ceiling and dust-covered everything; the air was stale and filled with the scent of musty book pages. The only place that seemed empty of books, was the large bookshelf that took up the entire west wall. Other than the insane amount of books and dust, the main room was rather nice and homely.

"I'm sorry for the mess. I completely forgot you were coming." David smiled at him and shoved a pile of books off the couch. "Please sit while I clean up some."

Alfred sneezed. "It's oaky, I don't mind a little dirt." When he sat in the space David had made for him, a puff of dust blew up before settling all over Alfred.

David laughed. "It's no problem, this place has needed a good dusting," he said as he went around opening all the windows.

"If you say so..." Alfred pick up the book next to him and blew the dust off the cover. "Field Guide to Edible Wild Plants...?" He flipped it open to find it filled with hand-written descriptions of leaves and berries. There were even detailed pictures of each plant.

"You should study that." David's voice had lost its cheerfulness and his face became grave.

Alfred looked up, startled by the change in him. "Huh?"

David smiled, his voice returning to its bright tones. "Do you like the book? You can have."

Alfred paused, trying to sort out what he said. "What did you mean by I need to study it?"

"Hmm? Study what?" He began to put books back on the empty shelves.

"You said I should study this book," Alfred said, confused by his Uncle.

David looked at him blankly. "I did?"

"Uh...Yeah..." Alfred shook his head. "Can you show me my room?"

"Ah, it's just down that stair." He motioned to a stairway Alfred didn't notice before. "It's the bedroom at the end of the hall."

"Thanks..." Alfred quickly retreated down the steps. He found his bedroom where his Uncle said it was. The room was small and the only things that furnished it was a bed and a small dresser beside the bed.

"It's so small..." Alfred muttered to himself as he emptied his suit case into the dresser. He set his laptop and iPod on top of the dresser, grumbles at how useless they are now that he was in the middle of nowhere.

"Alfred~!" His Uncle's voice called. "Come have some lunch."

He slowly made his way back up to the main room. His jaw dropped at the sudden changes just a little cleaning could do. A little was an understatement, the entire room was spotless, the previous dust was nowhere to be seen.

"How did you clean everything so quickly?!" Alfred gawked at the now full bookcase.

"I had a little help." He stirred a pot.

"From who? And what are you making?" Alfred's nose took in the delicious scents coming from the pot.

"Perhaps you will find out soon." David smiled. "And this is potato soup."

"Sounds like something a poor person would eat..." He wrinkled his nose.

"Hey, you wanna know a secret..." David leaned closer, a smirk played on his lips.

Alfred eyed him suspiciously. "What-"

David shut him up by shoving spoon full of soup into his mouth. "It may be simple, but it's delicious."

He slowly swallow, savoring the taste, but refusing to show he like it. "...Why do you have wooden spoons?"

David laughed. "I broke all my sliver ones and had to make wooden ones. Why do you ask?"

"You broke them all? How!" Alfred laughed.

"I don't know! They all broke one by one, until I had none left!" His Uncle laughed with him and filled a bowl with soup for him.

Alfred took it and ate the soup quickly, then held his bowl out for more. "Just like the door?"

He just laughed and refilled his bowl. "I'll fix that now," he said as he rummaged through his cabinets.

"How far is the closest town?" Alfred asked after scarfing down his soup.

"Hmm..." He paused in his searching to calculate in his head. "That's an estimated seventy-two miles... I would say about two days."

"What?! But it barely took an hour to get here!" Alfred was bewildered by the difference in time.

David went over to him and flicked him in the head. "Don't be stupid, because I know your not. You came here in a car and if you didn't notice, I have no car."

Alfred pouted and rubbed his forehead. "Ow! That hurt!"

His uncle pinned him with a stare and something stirred behind his eyes before he said, "Be patient. All the excitement you could want is waiting for you here."

Alfred was too annoyed to notice. "What could be here other than dirt and trees?"

A smirk made its way across his face. "Perhaps you'll find out."

He made a frustrated noise, but remain silent.

David finally found his toolbox. "You should go explore the forest around here."

"I guess..." Alfred glared at the ground.

He handed him a backpack as if he was waiting to get him out. "There's some snacks and water in there. Just follow the stream, there's an abandoned village about four miles down." David smiled and said jokingly, "Now get out of here before your grumpiness rubs off on me."

"Abandoned huh..." Alfred grinned and grabbed the backpack. "Thanks Uncle David." He walked off quickly.

His uncle watched him until he was out of sight. "That stupid boy..." He glanced to the disturbance in the air next to him. "I hope your right..."

All that answered him was a slight gust of wind.

* * *

**I know it's kinda slow, but bare with me, it will get better.**


	2. Chapter 2

As soon as his Uncle's cottage was out of sight, Alfred opened up the backpack and inspected its contents. _Trail mix? When he said snacks I was expecting a little more than a bag of nuts,_ he grumbled in his head and pulled out a first-aid kit. _What would I need this for?_ He shook his head and shoved it back into the backpack. The stream gurgled happily beside him and after about an hour of walking, he caught a glimpse of some buildings through the trees.

"Finally!" Alfred ran past the last few trees and stopped. The sunlight seemed to dim and all the nice green foliage was drained of color. "Wow... This place is kinda creepy..."

He continued on, glancing about warily. Eyeing the crumbling houses and the ivy that was oblivious to the destruction it was causing. When he passed the last house, he came across a Church; one of the biggest he'd ever seen. The path leading up the entrance was badly cracked and the wood of the doors look liked it had rotted away long ago. Ivy covered the entire front of it and small trees had sprouted, their roots forcing themselves into the brickwork. _Damn, this place is really, really creepy... What if it's haunted? Oh shit..._ Alfred stumbled back, out of the shadow cast by the menacing Church. _Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit._ Trying to swallow the lump his fear, he stumbled to the lighter side of the Church, where the sun was shining at its brightest. Once in a less sinister atmosphere, Alfred slowly regained his composer.

"Damn... I still haven't gotten over that stupid fear of ghosts..." he muttered, inaudible to anyone but himself. He sighed, his gaze drifted across the ground. The soft sound of movement reached his ears and he slowly looked up.

And then he saw him.

His pure white wings were spread wide to keep his balance on the thin window seal. Even from a distance, Alfred could see the paleness of his skin and the way it reflected the sunlight. He swung his legs in the air, as if he was dipping his feet in the water of a pond. A soft breeze brushed through his hair, ruffling it tenderly. Alfred's breath caught in his throat as the Angel slowly turned and saw him. The Angel flushed prettily and his wings began to move as if to take flight.

"Wait!" Alfred called out. His wings flattered and caught on some ivy before tumbling into the trees behind the Church.

...oOo...

_Pull up, damnit!_ Arthur fought for control as he spiraled towards the ground, beating his wings frantically. It was no use, he let out a strangled cry as he crashed into a tree, his left-wing letting out a painful crack when he hit the ground. Arthur quickly sat up, his head spun from the sharp pain that shot through his wing. _How am I going to get back now...? Wait, what about that human?!_ As soon as Arthur thought of him, Alfred came pounding through the underbrush.

"Oh my god! Are you oaky?" Alfred rushed over to him.

Arthur, startled by his sudden appearance and loud voice, tried to crawl backwards, his good wing flapped wildly to help him along.

Alfred froze, pinned by the fear in those deep emeralds that stared widely at him. He mentally shook himself before saying softly. "I'm not going to hurt you." He cautiously moved towards him.

He watched Alfred warily as he slipped off his backpack. Arthur thought bitterly, _Oh great. He's not only human, he's American. I'm going to be in so much trouble._

"Do you speak?" He asked as he pulled the first-aid kit out of his backpack.

"Of course I bloody speak." Arthur glared at him, but the fear still lingered at the back of his eyes.

He grinned, ignored his Angel's pissed off tone. "That's great!" He plopped down next to him.

Arthur scooted away, still glaring. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"You're bleeding... I'm going to bandage your cuts." Alfred blinked at him.

He look at himself to see his arms and legs were covered with cuts and blood was smear on his usually white tunic. "Oh..."

Alfred, guessing it was relatively safe to continue, took one of his arms and began to cover his arm with band-aids. _His skin is really soft... Like a girl's..._ Alfred resisted the urge to stroke his skin and peeked up at him.

_He's looking at me... Can't he mind his own damn business?_ Arthur felt his blood raise to his cheeks in embarrassment and observed the human from the corner of his eye, taking in the smooth muscles that showed plainly through his T-shirt.

"There, all done," Alfred said cheerfully.

Arthur glared at him and stood up, but he nearly stumbled at the pain that coursed through his body. _Oh right... My wing..._ He glanced back and was relieved to see that his wing wasn't twisted at some odd angle or broken in half.

"Is something wrong?" The human looked at him concerned.

He scowled. "My wing... I think it's broken," Arthur grumbled.

"Oh? Let me see." Alfred got up and moved behind him.

"What?! No!" He tried to move away before strong fingers began to prod and push through his feathers. Arthur hide his face in his hand and bit down on his lip when Alfred brushed his fingers over the fracture.

Alfred frowned. "It's not a big break, but it must hurt." A memory of a bird with a broken wing filled his mind...

_"Mommy! Mommy! There's a birdy on the ground." A younger Alfred came running across the lawn, a towel around his neck like a cape._

_A sickly woman looked up from her book. "That's nice..." She smiled at him wearily._

_"I think it's hurt, mommy! We gotta save it!" He was oblivious to his mother's exhausted gaze._

_Even through the haze fatigue, his mother smiled, a real smile. "Then go into the house and get a shoe box." She watched as her son ran into the house. Her time was near, she knew it. But for now, all she wanted was to see her some smile happily._

_"Mommy, I got it," he called cheerfully from behind her._

_"Such a good boy," she gave him a wet kiss on the cheek._

_"Ew! Mommy," he squealed happily._

_She laughed softly. "Now go get that birdy," she called after him as he ran off, "And be extra gently with it!" With a sigh, she leaned back in her wheel chair._

_"Mommy! I saved it, I saved the birdy," Alfred came running up, shoe box in hand._

_"Careful Alfred, don't bump the birdy around," she quickly took the box from her enthusiastic son. A soft scrabbling came from inside the box, she peeked inside to see a dove with its wing slumped lower than the other. "Poor thing... Let go inside where we can care for it properly."_

_"I'll push you, mommy." He took his place behind her._

_"Oaky," she said slowly. "But not too fast."_

_"You got it!" He proudly walked his mother inside._

_Once inside, Mrs. Jones sent maids to get the things she needed and lead everyone to the dinning room._

_"What do we do?" Alfred stood on his tippy-toes to peek over the table._

_His mother gently took the dove out of the box and took a roll of gauze from the head maid. "Alfred holds its feet and the good wing. And be gentle."_

_Alfred pouted. "I'm always gentle." But he did as he was told, careful not to hold he bird too tightly._

_She smiled at him. "Good boy." She repositioned the injured wing to its natural place, ignoring the struggle of the bird. Delicately, she wrapped the gauze around the wing and pinned it to its body. "There. Now we let it heal."_

_He grinned at her. "We're the Heroes!"_

_His mother laughed. "No, just you. You're my Hero." She put the dove back into the shoe box._

_Mrs. Jones was admitted to the hospital soon after that and she died before she could see that little bird fly again... She died before she saw her son's last true smile..._

"Ow! You git, of course that hurts!" The little bird- no, angel glare up at him.

Alfred blinked, having to remember where he was after being ripped from his memory. "Oh, sorry... I'll be more gentle..." He winced at how familiar those words were.

"You better... I blame you for surprising me, causing me to fall." Arthur observed him. _He seems to be in pain... Physical?_ Arthur looked closer. _No... Must emotional... Wait, why do I even care?!_ He gave a mental huff and renewed his glaring at the human.

"Me? Why?" Alfred pouted. "I didn't do anything."

Arthur made a noise in disagreement. "You were here, that's what you did. No humans were suppose to be around today."

"Well sorry!" Alfred glared. "I'll be sure to tell you next time," he said as he began binding Arthur's wing like his mother did for that little bird, but not half as gently as he could.

"Ow! Damnit, you said you were going to be more gentle!" He was tearing up the grass around him to help hold in his pain.

_"Remember to be extra gentle with it," his mother's voice drifted through his head. _Alfred sighed. _Yes mother._ "Sorry..." He carefully finished binding the wing.

Arthur grumbled under his breath, "How am I going to get home now...?" He gazed longingly towards the sky.

"Oh! You can come stay with me and... But it might be bad if my Uncle saw you..." Alfred scratched his chin.

"Why would I want to stay with you anyway?" Arthur huffed irritably.

"Do you have anywhere else to go?" He asked.

"Well no... But-"

"Then I'll take care of you," Alfred cut him off. "Plus, as _you_ said, it's my fault you hurt your wing and I should take responsibility." He grinned.

_Shit... I have no where else to go and this idiot is "taking responsibility." Oh bullocks... _Arthur growled, "Fine, but I'm not getting near any humans."

"But I'm human..."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Other than you, git."

"Oh! Then I'm special?" Alfred smiled widely at him.

He smacked him over the head. "Don't get the wrong idea. I'm merely making a point."

"Oh..." Alfred visibly deflated.

Arthur almost felt guilty, almost. He turned sharply. "I'll just stay in the Church."

"What? But that place doesn't even have doors." Alfred looked back towards the large building behind them.

"I know, you idiot," he said sharply before stomping back to the Church.

Alfred pouted. _He's such a meanie. All I'm trying to do is help and not even a thank you from him._ He huffed then quickly followed the Angel to find him staring at the Church with a wretched expression. "Is something wrong...?"

Arthur jerked his gaze to him, that look faded but never left his green eyes completely. "What?"

Alfred choose his words carefully for once. "You looked...sad..."

He blinked, the worry in those blue eyes made him almost think he was sincerely concerned about him. Then he laughed. "You're seeing things, you incompetent human," he smiled cheerlessly and before Alfred could reply he walked into the Church.

_What the hell was that...?_ He merely followed him in.

Arthur pushed him back out. "Go home."

"What?" Alfred let himself be pushed out.

"You don't need to be here anymore, so go home," he informed him.

Alfred pouted. "Fine, but I'm coming back tomorrow!" Suddenly he pull the trail mix out of his backpack and handed it to him. "In case you get hungry..."

He just rolled his eyes. "Go. Home. Now," he growled.

"I'm going, I'm going," he said as he walked away, pouting.

...oOo...

When he finally arrived back at his Uncle's house, the door was fixed and a fire was going in the hearth. Alfred had worked himself up and wanted badly to throw a tantrum. "I'm back," he huffed.

"That's great! I was almost worried since it was getting dark out," his Uncle replied from the book he was reading. "Have fun?"

"I wouldn't say it was fun," he growled.

"Well get some rest, I'm sure your trip made you tired." His Uncle smiled up at him.

"Whatever." He went off to sulk in his room.

David waited a moment. "Did they meet?"

A small light appeared. "Yes."

"Good, hopefully things will turned out as planned."

"Time can only tell..." The light disappeared and only silence remained in its place.

* * *

**Heh, sorry everyone! So sorry! Somehow I doubled the chapter and didn't realize it. Bad Windy, very bad Windy. I was wondering why no one was reviewing... Haha, sorry again~**


	3. Chapter 3

Alfred woke up as tired as he fell into bed, he had barely gotten any sleep because that grouchy angel had plagued his thoughts all night. He had found himself staring at the ceiling, going over the first sight he caught of his heavenly, only to have that beautiful thought shattered when the angel opened his mouth.

"He's nothing like what I thought an angel would act like," he thought out loud. With a growl, he pushed himself out of bed, rushing through breakfast and getting dressed.

"What's the rush, kiddo?" His uncle asked sleepily.

He barely paused to answer, too busy shoving fruit into his pack. "Not far, just down the stream."

"Well have fun..." He stared at Alfred's back as he ran out the door. "He's energetic." he mumbled over his tea.

It was still early as Alfred set out at a steady jog, dew clung to grass, quickly soaking the bottom of his pants. The sun was barely stretching over the trees and it never occurred to him that the angel might still be asleep, which was exactly what the angel was doing.

When he reached the Church, it seemed different. He couldn't tell exactly what, but as he approached it, he didn't feel scared, not even a little bit like he had before. Whatever the change was, it gave the old building a whole new presence. The large gaping holes where windows once were, no longer looked as if they'd swallow him whole and leave his soul trapped in eternal damnation, tortured in the deepest bowels of hell.

"Hey Angel!" He called loudly through the doorway, still too wary of the building to enter it. When no answer came, hesitantly he stepped into the dark shadows. The inside of the Church was not as ominous as the outside was, it held more of a sense of colorless misery. Sunlight filtered through empty windows, but it did nothing to warm the cold grey of the stone around him. Wood littered the ground, but the path of stonework down the center of the room remained clear of most debris.

"Angel...?" Alfred wandered down the middle-way, glancing around for a glimpse of white feathers.

High in the beams, above his head, Arthur stared down at him. Soundless, he floated, unsteadily down to the ground. "Hey, my name isn't Angel."

The human nearly jumped out of his skin. "How long have you been there?!"

"Stop yelling, you stupid human! It's annoying!" Arthur glared at him, not at all happy with his loud voice.

Alfred pouted at him. "Alfred is my name, stop calling me 'human'."

"You're human, aren't you? And if you're not human, then tell me, what are you?" The Angel smirked at him. "Were you some stupid American caveman that got stuck in a glacier and thanks to global warming, you finally melted and escaped? Even then, you're still human!"

"Shut up," he yelled and stomped his foot. "You are an angel, aren't you suppose to be kind to humans? Aren't you suppose to protect them? Help them? Guide them? That's your job! Where is your kindness that they talk of in the Bible?"

Arthur stared at him coldly. "It is my job and I perform it perfectly. Since I became an angel, I have watched over humanity. I have given guidance to those who deserved it and I have watched them ignore it completely! I have watched them make war over nothing or use God as an excuses the pillage and kill however much they pleased! And why do they do this? What is the point of it? In all the years I've been watching, I've asked those questions hundreds- no, thousands of times, and I still don't know the answer! So you ask me where my kindness is, it was tortured by humanity and killed by their sins! And yet, I still have hope for them, but my compassion is dead." His throat hurt from his outburst and tears threatened to spill down his cheeks.

For once, Alfred was speechless. He stood, frozen to the spot as he stared at the Angel. The sight of those bitter tears caused a twinge of pain his chest that he didn't understand, nor did he think he would ever want to.

He took a deep breath. "But I wouldn't expect a _human_," he spat the word at him. "To understand, or even care."

Alfred was silent for a moment. "Why are you crying for us?" He took a step closer to him. "We really are as bad as you say, yet you still cry over us- for us. You cry for us..."

It was Arthur's turn to be silent, stunned by a question that had never been asked of him before.

"I'm sorry," he whispered and wrapped his hands around the smaller man.

Arthur stiffened, not use to such contact. His mind raced, unable to send a clear message of command to his body. Slowly, as if he was coming out of drug induced paralysis, he raised his arms and returned the embrace. "No one has ever..." He trailed off, not wanting to finish his sentence.

"Ever what?" He tightened his arms around him.

"Nothing," he mumbled against his chest, letting his arms drop to the side. "Arthur... My name is Arthur. Now, get off me, you git."

"And now you're back to insulting me." Alfred sighed and stepped away from him. "But you gave me your name, so I guess you like me." He grinned at this small triumph.

Arthur only rolled his eyes. "A name for a name, it's only fair that I tell you mine too."

"Were you planning to tell it to me before?"

"Well.. No, but-"

"Exactly~!" Alfred grin widened.

He growled, "Oh, be quiet. You're too loud." A loud rumbling sound interrupted them both, Arthur flushed with embarrassment at the noise his stomach made.

Alfred laughed. "You should have said sooner you were hungry, I brought food with me. No wonder you were so grumpy."

"I was grumpy, because I woke up to a broken wing and a insanely loud American voice echoing through this Church," he grumbled at him. "But that doesn't matter, where's the food?"

He opened up his backpack and pulled out the fruit he grabbed from his Uncle's house. "I brought an apple and another apple... It seems all I brought were apples."

"You're absolutely useless." Arthur bit into one of the apples.

"I was half asleep when I gathered food." He pouted.

"Then stay asleep so I can sleep more!" He grabbed another apple to eat, devouring it quickly.

"Where are you even sleeping? This place is a mess." Alfred gestured to the piles of old, rotting wood around them. There were also pieces of glass scattered about. "You don't even have shoes."

"I sleep up there." He pointed up to the large beams. "It's a bit dusty, but I don't mind that."

Alfred gasped. "That's not safe! How do you even get up there? Your wing is broken!" Concerned flooded his eyes.

Arthur rolled his eyes at him. "Just my wing, all other limbs still work, idiot. I'm not a crippled in being able to move, just in flight." Just to prove his point, he flicked him in the forehead.

"Ow! What was that for?"

"For only bringing me apples, for being a brat, for putting me in this position and worst of all, you ruined my favorite robe." His robe was torn and blotches of dried blood covered some areas, and brown from the dirt.

"But that has nothing to do with me!" Alfred sighed. "Screw it, there's a stream not too far from here where you can wash it, if you want."

"I know there's a stream."

"Then why did you go before?!"

"Because unlike someone, I was still asleep!" Arthur stomped out of the Church.

"Where are you going?" His voice rose in volume as he followed the angel.

He practically yelled at Alfred, "To the stream! Where the hell else would I be going?"

Alfred walked beside the pissed off angel. "Oh... Sorry."

Arthur made his way silently through the trees, his bare feet made only the slightest impressions in the soft soil. A light wind rose to meet them as the approached the small stream, Arthur looked up at the sky as he stepped into the cool water. He carefully peeled off the soiled tunic and let it drift in the current, leaving him in a thin under shift. Slowly, he tore off the bandages covering his legs and arms.

"You're not cut up anymore." Alfred stared at his unblemished skin.

He glared at him. "I healed, you idiot. Now turn around."

"Why?" He asked dumbly.

Arthur gave him a look that made him feel like he was a small child again. "I don't want you staring at me while I bathe, unless you're a pervert, then I can fix those wandering eyes of yours."

He blushed brightly. "Oh! I just... Sorry," he mumbled as he sat down with his back turned.

The angel didn't answer him as he slipped the last of his clothing over his wings, he flinched with the fabric brushed over his fractured wing. He pulled off the gauze the bound his wing to his back, slowly he stretched his wings out.

"Is your wing healed like those cuts were?"

He stiffened, almost forgotten the annoying American was still there. "No... They don't regenerate like my body does." He sat down in the water.

Alfred felt strangely relieved to hear that, but he couldn't put his finger on the feeling of disappointment in his chest when he thought of Arthur flying away. "Oh... Why is that?"

"You're just full of questions," he grumbled and sighed. "Fine, they don't heal quickly because the have more value than any other body part. They are gifts from employer, they show my purity and virtue." His gaze turned towards the sky once again.

"God...? So he is real?" Alfred turned slightly to look at him fully, relieved to see most of him covered by water.

"That is for you to decide. I am only an angel." His heart so filled with longing to be free from the ground, that he couldn't feel Alfred's gaze on him. Arthur grabbed his clothes and began to scrub the dirt from them, he prayed they wouldn't be stained beyond help.

"But doesn't you being here mean He exists?" The American frowned.

"Not necessarily. I am an angel, but I never said who my employer is." Arthur brought his eyes back to earth. "Hey! Are you peeping at me?!"

The human quickly looked away. "What?! No!" He couldn't help the embarrassed blush that reddened his cheeks.

"You were!" A large, smooth river rock found its way into his hand, with explosive anger, he launched it at the unsuspecting human in front of him.

Alfred froze when a rock came whizzing past his ear. "What the? That almost hit me!"

"I know, I purposely missed, you peeping tom," Arthur growled. "You're lucky I'm not allowed to cause harm to humans!"

He stuck his tongue out at him, glaring resentfully. "You're a mean little angel."

"Then again, I've never been one to follow the rules completely." He waved another rock at him threateningly.

"Fine, fine! I'm sorry for looking at you!" Alfred crossed his arms over his chest and huffed irritably.

Arthur set his now clean clothes onto a rock in the sun, only now realizing he had no clothes to change into. He hesitated before saying, "Take off your pants... Now."

"What?" Alfred looked at him like he was crazy, trying to ignore Arthur's naked body.

"I don't know if you've noticed, but I have no dry clothes and I want to get out of this water, you idiot," he stated simply.

"Why should I give you anything? All you've ever been to me is mean, so why should I be nice!" Even as Alfred said this, he striped off his pants, leaving him only in his boxers.

Arthur climbed out onto the bank, snatched up the pants quickly and pulled them on. "Thank you," he replied gruffly. "I know you did not have to give me these, but I'm glad you did."

"Fine, your welcome." He looked away, fully aware that he had no pants on and he totally wasn't wearing his Clifford boxers, the big red dog standing out glaringly on his ass. Alfred heard a snicker from beside him. "What are you laughing at?"

"Oh nothing," another snicker interrupted his sentence. "I was just being distracted by a red dog."

Alfred's face turned hot from embarrassment. _Why the hell do I still have these boxers? Damnit Mattie..._

"Who's Mattie? A girlfriend?" Arthur frowned, somewhat disturbed by the thought.

"Oh! Uh... That's my brother." He laughed nervously. _Shit, did I seriously say that out loud?_

"You have a brother?" The angel was now watching him curiously.

He nodded and said, "He gave me these as a joke." Alfred pouted as he remembered the smirk on Matthew's face when he opened the gift in front of his buddies. "Mattie's really quiet, but I grew up with the guy, he can be as loud as me if he wanted to. He's the 'good' child in my family."

Arthur sat down in the grass. "What makes him so good?"

"He's polite and quiet. And I get blamed for everything he does, like when he got drunk and trashed the house," he grumbled resentfully and sat next to Arthur.

"That hardly seems fair." Arthur frowned.

"Well...I am the one that usually trashes the place, so I guess it makes sense that they look to me when they find pizza on the ceiling." Alfred watched Arthur out of the corner of his eye.

He laughed. "I think you really love your brother."

"What?" Alfred suddenly noticed this is the first time the grumpy angel had laughed and he was smiling too. _Is this was people call progress?_

"You take the blame for him, don't you?" He asked, not realizing he was smiling.

Alfred pouted and grumbled, "Maybe. But that's what a hero does."

He watched as the young man's face burst into a bright smile, he couldn't help but feel the corners of his own mouth try to tug upwards in response, but he quickly stopped it by scowling. "Tell me more about your family."

"Well, my father owns a big company and that makes us very rich. My mother... She died of cancer when I was younger and I was supposed to go visit her grave in France, but my evil stepmother convinced my father to send me here instead." Arthur noticed his hands clenched into fists, but he couldn't tell whether it was from grief or anger. "And I told you about Mattie, he's my awesome sidekick. What about you? Do you have a family?"

Arthur stiffened, not expecting such a question. "I did have a family... But that was a very long time ago."

"What were they like?" Alfred stared at him curiously.

He was silent for a moment. "I wonder if my clothes are dry." He went over to the rock where his clothes laid, but they were still damp and he slowly sat back next to him. "You need to bandage my wing again."

"Oh, oaky." Alfred decided not to push the conversation any further as he fished gauze out of his backpack. He made quick work of binding up the wing.

"I had three older brothers, I was the youngest and they all hated me. My mother died giving birth to me and when I reached the age of fourteen my father was dying," Arthur said softly as he worked on his wing.

Alfred stared at the back of his head in surprise, not expecting him to bring up the subject. "I'm sure your brothers didn't really hate you."

He tilted his head back to look at him, a rueful smile graced his lips. "They hated me, they made sure to make everyday of my life hell so I would always remember they hated me. It grew even worse when Father finally died."

Alfred stared into to his broken emeralds, wincing inwardly at the agony he found in them, but he couldn't find it in himself to tear himself away from their haunting beauty. "Oh... I'm so sorry."

"Ah, don't worry yourself about it." He turned his gaze to the sky. "It was a long time ago, as I said." He let his mind go and wander in the endless blue, gently floating through the clouds. Suddenly, a different set of blue filled his mind's eye and they had a face to go along with them, quickly he blinked to shake them from his head.

"So you were human once?" The American broke into his spacing out moment. "Does that mean you died?"

Arthur pushed away his inner turmoil and said, "Yes, I was human. My eldest brother killed me."

"What! B-But you were his brother!" The thought of Matthew killing him, or vice-versa, him killing Matthew was an impossible thought.

"I believe I mentioned he hated me, unless you weren't listening, which wouldn't surprise me one bit." Arthur sighed. "Although I suppose I deserved what I got. I was Father's favorite and he did leave me all his estates and money rather than divided it up evenly."

He turned him around and shook him by the shoulders, his face merely inches from his. "You didn't deserve to die! Your brother was an ass for killing you!"

Arthur stared into those sky-blue eyes, he almost felt he was flying again, quickly he looked away. "It doesn't matter now. The past is the past and no one can change it."

Those eyes kept staring at him, but he refused to meet Alfred's gaze. "That still doesn't make it right! It was wrong then and it's still wrong now! He took your life, Arthur, shouldn't you be angry?!"

He looked at him evenly. "Don't misunderstand, I came to terms with my death long ago."

"I guess you're right..." He let him arms drop away from his shoulders.

"Don't look so perturbed. I like this life as an angel better, it's quiet and free."

"But isn't it lonely?" Alfred watched his expression turn from a look of calm to one of surprise, which he quickly hid.

"I've never felt lonely." He didn't care if he was lying to himself, it didn't matter to him what he felt.

Alfred frowned at him, not know whether to believe him or not. "Fine, but I would definitively get lonely."

"Well that's you." Arthur stood up and stretched his free wing. "Would you like to see the forest?"

"Forest? Doesn't it all look the same?"

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Of course it doesn't you idiot."

He pouted. "Fine, but you don't have to insult me."

The angel smiled at him over his shoulder. "Come on. You found me while you were exploring, why not explore some more?"

* * *

**Wow, this didn't take long. I only started this chapter a few days ago and somehow turned out so long... Is it just me or is my sense of time off? Maybe it's just me. Weird...**

**-Windy**


	4. Chapter 4

Alfred followed Arthur as he guided him through the forest, stopping now and then to talk about some old tree and rock that use to be used as a stage. To tell the truth, he was bored out of his mind; Arthur might find these things interesting, but Alfred was left wishing that his father hadn't banned all electronics on this trip (Except his phone, of course).

"Are you listening to me?" Arthur's angry voice broke through his daydreams of violent video games and loud, roaring music.

He eyes focused on the small angel standing in front of him with his hands on his hips. "Uh... Yes. Of course I am."

"Don't you dare lie to me Alfred F. Jones! I absolutely hate liars," he growled, looking nothing like the shining beings of light the Bible portrayed.

"I'm not lying!" He may not have been listened to him, but he sure as hell wasn't going admit that to Arthur, unless he wanted to get pelted by rocks and sticks.

Arthur sent him a look that made him feel like a child trying to hide that he had been in the cookie jar with out his mother's permission.

"Stop that." Alfred looked away.

He took a deep breath and rubbed his forehead. "If you would listen to me and actually look around you, perhaps you see something amazing, and not look bored and probably feel it too."

"But you haven't shown me anything interesting." The American couldn't help but pout at him.

"Then look around you and I might consider repeating myself, you fucking twat!" Usually Arthur saved such foul language for a certain French angel, but this stupid young man was getting on his last nerve.

Alfred gave him a confused look, not understanding the meaning of twat or that it was something offensive. With a sigh, glanced around him, only to do a double take. Somehow, without his notice, Arthur had led him to a darker, more depressing part of the forest. All the trees were dead, not a single stubborn leaf dare clung to the lifeless branches. Unless you counted the crows that filled trees, eerily quiet for all the birds around. Even the sun seemed to refused to shine, or bring any real light to the area. All the color looked drained, leaving only dark shadows and grey, dim light.

"Oaky, you have my attention... Where are we?" He whispered, stepping closer to the other male.

"About time you noticed, you idiot," Arthur sneered.

"Don't insult me," he hissed back, glancing around at the birds around him.

Arthur shot him an annoyed look, giving an irritated huff. "Then don't be so bloody stupid all the time."

"I'm not stupid! You're just—" A loud squawk interrupted him, causing him to hide behind Arthur. "Fuck," Alfred hissed.

He rolled his eyes. "It's only a bird, you idiot. Don't act so scare."

Alfred whispered, too freaked out to want to talk louder that a whisper, "I don't like it here, it's creepy. Let's leave."

"Already losing your sense of adventure? Well too bad! Come on." Arthur grabbed his arm and dragged him along, ignoring the protests of the scared boy next to him.

"But it's scary," Alfred whined. "What is it's...haunted?"

Arthur thought about it for a moment, a twisted smirk come over his lips and his eyes narrowed with mischief. "It's haunted."

"W-What?"

"Don't you know the stories of this forest?" He asked innocently, a Cheshire-cat grin growing wider on his mouth.

"N-No," he mumbled, not liking Arthur's grin one bit.

From the way Alfred was trembling and looking around him, as if a monster was hiding in every shadow, Arthur knew it wouldn't take much to scare the poor lad. "This forest is known for its many ghosts and ghouls, that steal little children from their cribs and make dogs go mad with fear."

Alfred squeaked, "G-Ghosts? G-Ghouls?"

"Of the worst sort. In this very forest, a young woman use to travel through it every night," he let his voice drop in volume, resonating with an unnerving tone. "Do you know what happened to her?"

Alfred shook his head, his eyes staring wide at Arthur.

He lost himself in those endless blue orbs for a moment, forgetting where he was. He blinked, turning his eyes towards the dark, stormy sky before looking at Alfred again, his green eyes holding a wicked glint. "One especially stormy night, she sat down for to rest her feet and from behind a man stepped out of the shadows. He approached her slowly from behind, a knife gripped tightly in his hand."

Those fathomless eyes, never left Arthur's. Alfred wasn't easily scared, but from the way Arthur's voice echoed in his ears and his eyes held his with such rapture, it scared him.

"An evil grin carved on the lips of the man as he raised his knife and," Arthur paused for effect, enjoying the wide-eyed look Alfred was giving him. "Slit her throat!"

Alfred stared at him, his mouth hanging open, and happy with this reaction, Arthur continued, "Some nights or on dark days like this, her spirit comes out, searching for the home she never came back to and never will."

Suddenly, a loud crack of a twig sound behind them, and Alfred let out a girlish squeal. Before Arthur knew what happened, they were on the ground with the American sprawled across him, his head buried in the crook of his neck. "Don't let her get me!"

"Bloody hell! Get the fuck off me!" He winced at the pressure on his broken wing. "Really, get off."

"B-But..."

"Get off," Arthur said firmly, his voice revealing nothing of the sharp needles of pain that shot through him. "You're going to hurt my wing even more."

Alfred gasped, lifting his weight off the man below him. "I'm so sorry! I wasn't thinking—"

"I've noticed that about you," Arthur said, letting an amused smile show he wasn't anger with him. "Although, I wasn't expecting you to nearly crush me just for telling you a story hardly scary enough to frighten children."

He pouted. "I suppose I deserved that, but still not nice."

"No one ever said I was a nice angel, in fact—" Arthur finally noticed how close their faces were, too close for his liking. With blush rising on his cheeks, he pushed against Alfred's chest. "Get off me, you prat."

At the same moment, Alfred also noticed how close they were, but was too distracted by Arthur's soft looking lips. They moved, but the words that came out fell on deaf ears; he attention was completely focused on those tempting lips.

"Alfred.." Suddenly, it felt like he couldn't move. The way Alfred stared at him made shivers run down his spine and his stomach flutter uncomfortably. If he wanted, all he would have to do is lean up and let their lips touch.

Alfred couldn't find it in himself to move anyway, but forward. And with all logical thoughts out the window, he leaned closer, letting their lips—

"What the hell do you think you're doing? Get off me! You fucking idiot!" Arthur scrambled away, leaving Alfred dazed and more than confused.

"Huh...?"

"Don't pretend to be innocent," Arthur growled, looking ready to attack him if he took even one step towards him. "You were going to kiss me, you bastard! I won't allow that! Ever!"

"Oh, I'm sorry." Alfred stared at him, unmistakable hurt in his eyes. "I don't know what came over me..."

Arthur looked away, unable to stay angry when he had already apologized, and quietly said, "It's oaky. I mean, it's not really you fault." His eyebrows raised in surprise. Was he really forgiving the stupid human so easily? Anyone else, he would have punched them in the face, so why not Alfred? _Ugh, I don't want any of this confusion._ "Come on. Let's go back and get my clothes." Arthur didn't leave any room for him to reply before he walked away.

Alfred quickly followed, keeping his head down and staring at his feel._ Damnit, what is wrong with me? I nearly kissed an angel! **A fucking angel!** If I wasn't going to hell already, that would have definitely landed me there. Rules, we need rules._

_Rule 1: No kissing the angel._

_Rule 2: No fucking the angel._

_Rule 3: No wanting to do 1 or 2 to the angel._

_Will I be able to follow those rules? I have to, Arthur would probably drag me to hell himself if I_ _did! _Alfred gripped his hair, tugging at it in his frustration, his eyes shut tightly. He didn't notice Arthur staring at him with interest, finding his acts to release his aggravation, although he had no idea what would cause him to act in such an amusing manner.

"What are you doing?"

He looked up to see Arthur watching him like he was a new exhibit at the zoo. "Uh... Nothing," Alfred mumbled.

"On second thought, I don't want to know." Arthur coughed to hide the laugh that threatened to escape, quickly picking up his walking pace. "But do hurry up, it looks like rain will be coming soon."

Alfred groaned, glancing up to the grey sky, and followed close behind him. "Ugh, why does it rain so much here?"

"Because the winds coming off the ocean bring moisture—"

"I don't care!" A big drop of water fell on his glasses, splattering water on the lens.

Arthur grumbled under his breath, catching a drop in the palm of his hand. "We need to hurry."

"Yeah, yeah." Alfred grabbed his arm and dragged him along. "Just come on."

He stumbled after him, jogging to keep up with Alfred longer steps as they trampled through the underbrush. "Slow down! I'm going to fall!"

"Don't worry, dude, but you're slow and I don't want to get caught in the rain. Getting wet is uncool," he said, tugging a bit too hard on Arthur's hand and sent him tumbling to the ground.

"Ow! Ow! You fucking klutz!" Arthur had landed on a thorn-bush, the sharp branches dug into his skin, making angry red lines appear on his arms and bare chest, luckily he had Alfred's pants to protect his legs.

Alfred lifted him up with ease, settling him over his shoulder. "Here, this way you won't fall."

"Put me down, you oaf!" He kicked his lets and beat his arms on the stupid American's back, wincing as Alfred's shoulder dug into his gut in the most uncomfortable way.

"Stop your wigglin'," he grumbled was he set off quickly through the forest.

"But you don't even know where we are, you git!"

Alfred stopped, looking around him to find just how true that was. He had no clue where they were or how to get back to the Church. _Damnit, why does the forest have to look exactly the same everywhere?_

"Put me down, I know the way." Rain was beginning to sprinkle over them.

"No."

Arthur sighed, he really didn't want to get caught in the rain. "Fine, let me ride on your back. I will be able to see where we're going and give you directions from there, it will be quicker."

He consider it for a moment, then set him on the ground and crouched for Arthur to climb on. When Arthur didn't move, he looked back to see his face bright with blush. "Something wrong, why aren't you getting on?"

"No reason," he said quickly and climbed on, carefully wrapping his legs around Alfred's middle. "Just hurry up, and remember we have to get my clothes."

"I'm not going to forget," he grumbled, hooking his arms under the Brit's legs, hoisting him higher on his back before walking through the tramping through the bushes.

Arthur watched from his place on his back as Alfred mumbled curses at the vine that had grabbed his boxers. He casually pointed to the barely hidden path that Alfred failed to see "You know there's a path right there."

He mumbled a few curses and stumbled onto the path Arthur had pointed out to him, hoping he didn't make too big of a fool of himself. They made quick time, now that Alfred was on a path and was unlike to get lost (At least not with Arthur on his back) in the forest. But by the time they made it back to the stream, it was pouring on them. Alfred quickly grabbed Arthur's clothes and made a dash to the Church.

"Bloody hell," Arthur grumbled as he clambered off Alfred's back and down to the dirty floor once they were inside.

Alfred attempted to clean his glasses on a somewhat dry spot on his shirt, but there was none to be had. "It's raining pretty hard out there, I don't think I can go back to my Uncle's until it lets up." He reached into the backpack he had left in the Church, searching for the spare blanket he had placed inside.

"Oh great," he grumbled. "I guess that means your staying here." Arthur cursed under his breath, his luck could no get any worse. His archenemy, Francis, would laugh his misfortune and probably say that he was begin punished for having such a potty mouth. _That stupid Frog. Next time I see him, I'm going to punch him in his girly face._ Just thinking about the Frenchman had Arthur growling to himself.

"Calm yourself, dude. Am I really that bad to hang around with?" Alfred smiled but his insides twisted as he thought about what Arthur might say.

Arthur glared at him, still irritated from his thoughts about Francis. "I suppose not. My apologies if it seemed like my anger was directed at you, I just happened to think of a fucking frog that I would like to kill," he said grouchy-like.

"Frog? What did a frog do to you?" Alfred looked at him curiously, noting how his gaze darkened and his fists clenched, his whole body tense, as if waiting for a fight. _Holy crap, that poor frog is in alot of trouble. Did it, like, piss on him or something?_

"Not just any frog! I'm talking about that idiot Frenchman that likes to pretend he's my friend!" Now in Francis's defense, he was the closest thing to a friend that Arthur had and could somewhat put up with his snarky comments, even if it did come to blows. "But he's not!"

"What did he do to make you so mad at him? He must be a good guy if he can put up with you." Alfred laughed.

"Oh, shut it! He's a perverted frog. I _hate_ him," Arthur said, glaring at him.

Alfred decided Arthur hated his 'friend' just to hate him and had no exact reason to hate him, other than just to be stubborn. "I can see that," he said cheerfully, clearing away some debris before plopping down onto the ground, using the blanket as a cushion.

"He's always hitting on women _and_ men," Arthur complained, sitting gracefully next to him. "If was human, I bet he'd screw anything that couldn't run fast enough."

"Wow, he sounds terrible," Alfred said playfully, unable to keep an amused smile from his lips. Watching Arthur get so worked up over this Francis guy was comical. _It almost as if he was jealous of people Francis hits on... What if he is? Why should it matter to me?_

Oblivious to Alfred conflicting thoughts, Arthur continued with his rant about Francis and his inappropriate actions, like trying to seduce a human more than once or saying he was in love with one of his clients.

"Hey," he interrupted him mid rant, turning to stare at him. "What's the deal between humans and angels?"

Arthur looked up at him curiously, analyzing his face. "What do you mean?"

"Like, relationships between humans and angels. Are they forbidden or something?"

He stared at the ground in front of him, shifting uncomfortably under Alfred's intense stare. "Well, no. But they're not encouraged at all."

"Why not?" Alfred bit his lip. _Stop that, why are you even asking? Because you're just curious._ A little voice in the back of his mind told him it wasn't just curiosity, he really wanted to ignore it, but it kept nagging at him.

"Because we live forever and if human lives pass like a blink of an eye for us, getting attached will only cause trouble for us," Arthur explained in a business-like manner, carefully keeping his face emotionless.

"Oh, but has anyone ever fallen in love with a human anyway?" Alfred tried his best not to show too much interest in his answers, but more questions pushed at him to get asked.

"Francis did once." He let out a rueful laugh, his face a mask of fake glee. "And he'll never do that again."

Alfred frowned, not liking where this conversation had turned. "She's dead now?"

"Yes, and I may or may not have had a hand in causing her death."

His voice rose with surprise, "What? How?" He turned to face Arthur fully.

Arthur kept his gaze dutifully on the wall across from him, feigning an air of boredom and indifference. "I would have saved her if she was anyone else, but since Francis fell in love with her, I felt it was my duty to make sure of her death so she would no longer tempt him."

"That's..."

"Terrible? I know. But it was for the best; our kind cannot have distractions like...love." He frowned at his own hesitation.

Alfred was silent for a moment, and then said, "What if that had been you?"

"Don't be silly. I would never be stupid enough to fall in love."

"But what if you do?"

It took a long time for Arthur to said anything. The heavy silence that hung over them sucked the air away from them, making things more tense than they should be. "I'm tired; I'm going to take a nap."

"What? But—"

"I'm going to nap," he said over him, leaving no room for disagreement.

Alfred watched him climb up a large pillar using footholds Alfred didn't notice before, and perch himself precariously on a beam high above him. _What the hell? I don't understand... Is he angry at me? Must be..._ He went over everything in his head, wondering what he said to make Arthur so mad. Alfred stared at the lump of white feathers, his head hurting from thinking too hard.

As quietly as he could, he unpacked another blanket from his pack and used it to pillow his head on the ground. From out the broken window, he could see it was dark and no use in going back to his Uncle's now; he would get lost in the forest even if all he had to do was follow the river.

* * *

**It's been awhile, I know. So I give you a long chapter, my dear readers. Enjoy! Yes, I mean Joan of Arc. And yes, this is Alfred's side of Roses and Wings. If you want to know more about Francis, check out my other story, Roses and Wings.**

**Thank you for the wonderful reviews.**

**-Windy**


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